


Day 3: I saw Johnbo kissing Santa Claus!

by fantasybean



Series: 12 Days of Sherlockmas! [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Dress Up, Established Relationship, M/M, Santa's Workshop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27867326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasybean/pseuds/fantasybean
Summary: Sherlock and John have a case that requires them to dress up as "Johnbo" the elf and Santa Claus.Cue Sherlock having to be nice to over-excited children.And cue John wearing tights and pointy ear caps. It's all rather festive and wonderful.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: 12 Days of Sherlockmas! [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036677
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Day 3: I saw Johnbo kissing Santa Claus!

“Why do I have to be the elf?”

“You’re shorter.” Sherlock retorted, still holding out the elf costume he’d got John.

They were investigating a man who worked as an “elf” at a “Santa’s workshop”. His mother had come to Sherlock and John for their help – she was worried he was in some sort of trouble – having borrowed large sums of money from both parents and a sibling and now having gone silent on them.

“Yes, but I’m grey. And jolly. I should be Father Christmas.”

“You are hardly jolly, John.”

“Okay, well I’m nice.”

“I can play ‘nice’ for a role, John.”

“Nice? To endless queues of small children demanding gifts?”

“Despite my own belief system in these festive events, John, it may surprise you to know that I don’t wish to spoil it for young minds.” Sherlock said.

John raised his eyebrows “Well fine, I’ll wear the damn elf costume.” He grabbed the costume from Sherlock’s hands and marched to their bedroom to change.

* * *

“You didn’t say anything about tights!” John’s voice was muffled behind the door.

“What else did you expect?” Sherlock called back from his spot in front of the bathroom mirror as he applied some make up to age his face.

“Not tights.”

“Elves wear tights, John.”

All he received was a frustrated huff and a grumble about how tight they were.

* * *

When John finally left the bedroom and found Sherlock, dressed as Father Christmas – big bushy beard, hat, and belly stuffed under a big red coat – he grinned.

“Oh Santa, I’ve been ever so good this year. Can I have a ride on your sleigh?” he sauntered over to the man sat in his armchair and sat across his lap.

“Mmm… well you have been very good.” He slid a hand along John’s tight-clad legs and hummed in satisfaction at the smooth material that accentuated the muscles beneath “And I do like these tights on you.”

They were interrupted by a phone chime “Cab is outside. Come along, elf.” Sherlock stood up as John hopped off his lap “We can finish this later.” He squeezed John’s arse and nipped his ear (that yes, had an oversized pointy cap on it).

* * *

It was hell. A new level of hell. Sherlock sat on a tall throne in the middle of a shopping centre, surrounded by fake snow, bright and over-the-top decorations, and boisterous children and their boisterous parents. John stood beside him as ‘head elf’.

How Sherlock had got them the jobs at such short notice he’ll never know, but it was a great position to investigate from; they had the whole day to watch their client’s son, who seemed to check his phone at least once every few minutes. He was doing the photography for the event today.

Some other elves were milling around helping keep the queue in some sort of order and entertaining the children.

“Santa! Santa!” a small girl bounded over and John picked her up and placed her on Sherlock’s knee.

“Hello there.” Sherlock smiled behind the beard “You must be Brie!”

She nodded in awe, completely forgetting she had a name sticker on her sparkly red jumper.

“And what would you like for Christmas?” Sherlock asked, his script well-rehearsed at this point.

“I want a barbie doll and for my big brother to stop being so annoying.” Brie sighed.

“Ahh, a request I can sympathise with.” Sherlock chuckled.

“You have a brother?”

“Oh yes, you wouldn’t have heard of him; he’s boring and doesn’t give anyone any presents.” Sherlock revealed.

“Just like my brother!” Brie grinned.

“Anyway, this barbie… I’ll relay your requests to my elves and see if they can make one for you. But you have to be good for your parents. Can you do that?” Sherlock smiled.

Brie nodded “Is he going to make me my barbie?” she pointed at John.

“Oh no, this is Johnbo! My head elf! He’s far too busy looking after me and the reindeers.”

“Wow – that’s an important job!” she grinned and John smiled at her.

“It is indeed. Father Christmas is a very busy man. I have to make sure he eats a mince pie and drinks his milk every day – otherwise he’s too busy planning for Christmas Day and he forgets!” John chuckled.

“Wow – I drink my milk every day too!” she puffed up her chest in pride.

“That’s good!”

“Would you like to smile for your picture?” their suspect elf / resident photographer held up his camera.

“Cheese!” Brie grinned as the three posed.

“It was nice to meet you, Brie.” Sherlock said after the camera flashed “I hope you have a Merry Christmas!”

“Thanks Mr Claus Sir!” John took her back to her parents and handed them a small gift bag.

* * *

“I DON’T LIKE SANTA!” A small boy wailed, face red and snotty – mid tantrum just as him and his parents reached the front of the line.

“Come now, Tim, don’t you want some lovely presents this year? You have to be a good boy for Santa!” his mother tried to reason with him.

“NO! I HATE SANTA!” he yelled.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and tried to bite his tongue, wanting to just tell this child’s parents to take their distressed child away from him and his sensitive ears.

John could see Sherlock tensing, so he approached the three “Hello there. I see your young man isn’t feeling in a very festive spirit right now. If you keep hold of your tickets, we’re open until 5 this afternoon and you can come back another time when he’s feeling a little merrier?”

“I’ve just stood in that queue for half an hour.” The father put his hands on his hips.

“I understand, but if your little one doesn’t want to see Santa right now that is the best we can offer you. And I am told the queue quietens down after 3.” John placated as best he could over the loud cries of the child.

“Absolutely not, we paid ten pounds for this – you can wait a few minutes for my son to stop crying.”

“I just assumed as he is so upset you may want to take a breather. Perhaps you’d like to wait to the side and let another child or two meet Santa while he calms down?” John smiled, while inside he just wanted to swing at the man. The day had been long and loud and this boy was surely the loudest wailer in the shopping centre.

“No, we have been queueing for half an hour. I’m not letting some other kid ahead of us.” He turned to his son “Now Tim, stop this nonsense. You’re going to sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what you want.”

John looked back at Sherlock and they shared an exasperated gaze.

“NO! I HATE SANTA! I WANT PRESENTS NOW!” Tim stomped his foot.

“Santa doesn’t deliver presents until Christmas, Tim.” His mother stroked his hair gently.

“NOW!”

“Hey, Tim, is it?” John crouched before the boy who met his eyes and sniffled furiously but nodded “I’m Johnbo. Santa’s head elf! And if you’re a very good boy we have a little goodie bag waiting for you after you’ve talked to Santa! Would you like that?” he smiled.

Tim wiped his face against his sleeve and nodded “Okay.”

“Great! Want to come with me?” John held out his hand.

The boy took it and was led to Sherlock and sat on his lap.

“Good afternoon. Tim, is it?” Sherlock asked, not feeling particularly jolly but trying to prove John wrong and maintain his ‘nice’ character perfectly.

Tim nodded “Santa, I want a new bike. And a scooter like Gemma in my class. And a lego batman car.”

“Wow, those sound like fun presents. If you’re a good boy perhaps my elves will help me make some of them.”

“All of them.” Tim said seriously.

“Best behaviour then.” Sherlock said.

“Picture? Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” Tim smiled through his teary cheeks and snotty nose.

Sherlock was certain that picture would not be making the family Christmas card this year – judging by the faces of his parents as the camera flashed.

“Well done, Tim! Here’s your goodie bag! Merry Christmas!” John smiled and took him back to his parents.

* * *

As the day drew to a close, after what felt like a line of hundreds of children, Santa Claus and his elf finally climbed the stairs up to 221b.

Sherlock sighed into his phone “Yes, Mrs Boyce. I’m quite sure your son has been using the money to indulge in his gambling habits. I know this is a shock. Yes, as I said, quite sure. Now, I believe my work is done. Enjoy your evening.” he hung up.

“Was that case even worth today’s pain? I’ve got a headache starting.” John pulled his elf hat and ears off, chucked them on the kitchen table, and flicked the kettle on.

“Not at all. I thought the case held more intrigue than a simple gambling addiction. Perhaps the real curiosity is more in the mother and her well-hidden porn addiction.”

“Her what?”

“Oh please, John. Her age doesn’t exempt her from enjoying sexual activity.”

“Well, of course not, but porn? Watching or doing?”

“Hmmm… watching now. Used to be doing.” Sherlock unbuckled his large belt and sat down on the sofa with a contented hum as the cushions enveloped him in their comforting warmth.

“Fascinating.” John finished making the tea and brought Sherlock’s over.

“Thank you. Johnbo.” Sherlock smirked and John retaliated by sitting on his lap “Oh please, John, my legs can’t take it since that near-teenager, far too old to be at a Santa meet-and-greet if you ask me, sat on me.” Sherlock whined and wiggled his legs.

“But I was hoping, now the work is done, me and you might be able to finish what we started earlier? I’ve wanted to get my hands in this beard all day.” John raised an eyebrow and leaned down to kiss Sherlock, tangling a hand in the long white hair under his chin. Running his tongue gently across Sherlock’s cupid bow and then nipping his bottom lip and drawing a deep groan from the man beneath him, John knew his method of temptation was working. Sherlock wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer.

After a few minutes he pulled away and tucked a stray piece of hair behind John’s ear “You are insatiable. Go and take a headache tablet, we’ll finish our tea, and then you can tell me what you want for Christmas.”

“I like this plan.”

“And put the hat back on for it.”

“Ohh, yes.” John sighed happily and climbed off of him to go to the medicine cabinet “What about the ears?”

“Them too.” Sherlock was quick to answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 3 of my Sherlockian 12 Days of Christmas Series of one-shots! Hope you enjoyed!   
> Please leave a little kudo or comment if you liked it!


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